To capture me—one person—thirteen killing puppets had sharpened their swords for a month. The Constellation Murderer, the definition of fear among the Constellations, saw me as someone stronger than usual and had made preparations to hunt me down.0

“I give up the memories of the past thirty days.”0

This was the result.0

"Guh, ugh... Keough...!” 0

I coughed up blood. This was the cost of using my aura to protect my fox god and Hwia. They were safe, but the aura that had once flowed through my veins was exhausted, and that included the aura in my heart.0

God, I feel like I’m dying.0

I fell to my knees. Blood dripped down from my mouth.0

Actually, I should die. I’ll die and go back a day. I now know what his strategy is, so I can prevent it. I have to die. It’s the only way to survive. 0

Even as hellish pain seemingly squeezed my brain, I searched for the one path to survival—no, to death.0

I don’t have any aura left to block the next strike anyway. I’m not going to block it. Let it hit me! I’m going to die!1

I vomited a mass of blood and waited for the sixth blow to end me. I never imagined that a Hunter of the Constellation Murderer’s skill would see himself as weaker than me and launch a full-scale ambush. However, the ambush would only work this time. This time, I was unprepared. Next time, I was going to…0

I kept on...0